Colloquial Poetry

You have closed the doors,
You have closed the windows,
Of your nirvana on your beloved,
But have kept the top slot unlocked,
To keep an eye on the nomads,
Or you want your utopia plundered?

O’ sky why do you cry?
When my worry cries for me,
O’ thunder why do you strike?
When my woe is my ally,
O’ wind why do you mind?
My beloved is on my side.

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